


Winterburn

by gyunikum



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyunikum/pseuds/gyunikum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaehwan moves to a quiet village in the mountains, but there are bigger problems than the heavy snowstorm that forces him and Sanghyuk, the village foreman's son to wait it out in a small cabin in the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winterburn

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit. this was supposed to be like 4k but it just KEPT expanding.

Jaehwan stirs lightly when a small log pops in the heating stove, embers crackling and timber rupturing, ticking just louder than Jaehwan’s soft snores by a whisper. Through the opened door of the stove, orange and red, burnt and molten flood the dark space, dimly with a gentle glow.

Beside the sleeping man, Sanghyuk shifts, his eyes fluttering open drowsily at the movement. His foggy mind tries to remember just when he’s managed to doze off, maybe an hour ago, just after he finished the remainder of Jaehwan’s instant noodles. He takes a deep inhale, sniffing at the air, pleasant smell of burning wood lulling him back to sleep as the cozy scent of pine settles in his lungs.

It is not until Jaehwan turning fully onto his back that has Sanghyuk waking up again, senses becoming sharp in an instant. That is how Sanghyuk is able to catch the older man mumbling in his sleep, completely oblivious to the screeching world around him.

Sanghyuk squirms his way to Jaehwan’s sleeping form and nudges his shoulder with his nose to make Jaehwan repeat his request.

Another indistinguishable slur of words leaves Jaehwan’s parted lips, his head lolling towards Sanghyuk lazily as he shifts yet again. The expression on his face illuminated in the soft shades of fire is serene, until a slight crease between his eyebrows becomes visible, and his mouth turns into a scowl.

Sanghyuk lets out a quiet whine from his throat, urging Jaehwan’s subconscious to reply.

“I’m cold…” is all that Jaehwan manages, intelligible enough for Sanghyuk to understand. A purr of sorts rakes through Sanghyuk’s chords as he crawls even closer to Jaehwan, so close that their bodies are touching. When Jaehwan’s mind slowly registers the new sensation, his left arm, warm from the heat of the fire, snakes across his stomach to rest on Sanghyuk’s body.

Something rough prickles Jaehwan’s hand as he digs his fingers deeper into the coarse fur, a small part of his awareness not understanding the connection between not having any thick fabric that they could have used as a blanket and Sanghyuk’s body feeling like it is hidden under a layer of fuzzy coat.

But then again, the floor is covered in almost the same fur, skin of hunted animals taken from the equally uncomfortable bed, now laid out under Jaehwan’s back, near the very core of the source of the only heat in the small cabin.

 

Jaehwan hastily wrapped his coat around Sanghyuk’s naked body after closing the entrance, trapping the snow outside. He tried to scold the other boy with an intimidating look, but Sanghyuk’s only response was flashing a cautious smirk.

“Why didn’t you wait until you were inside?” Jaehwan asked exasperatedly, his anger directed towards the freezing temperature outside more than the boy standing in front of him. His large hands against the small of Jaehwan’s back were angry red but hot, despite being outside for several hours.

“Being so awfully concerned is too much even for you, hyung,” Sanghyuk replied quietly and turned out of the way before Jaehwan could hit him. “Besides,” the boy continued casually, “I didn’t want to freak you out.”

 _The cold doesn’t affect me,_ he meant.

He felt Jaehwan’s arms loosen around his shoulders, and Sanghyuk tightened his grip, not wanting to let go yet.

“I never freaked out,” Jaehwan grumbled under his nose as he watched the wet mop of dark hair on top of Sanghyuk’s head resting on his chest, Jaehwan’s shirt dampening from the melted snowflakes.

There was a long moment of heated silence, the light crackling of wood filling the warm cabin that got broken by a pleased whine from Sanghyuk as he moved his cheek against Jaehwan’s collarbones. Jaehwan lifted one of his arms to place his palm on Sanghyuk’s head, fingers getting caught in the knots of Sanghyuk’s mess of hair.

“How is it outside?” Jaehwan asked quietly. He travelled towards south with his hand, fingertips sweeping across Sanghyuk’s neck and feeling the protruding vertebrae until Jaehwan’s coat became nothing but an obstacle. Jaehwan wanted to stick his cold hand inside, stroke Sanghyuk’s muscular back and let the boy’s unbelievably hot body warm him up completely.

A sudden shiver frolicked through Jaehwan’s spine.

“The snowstorm is getting heavier,” Sanghyuk answered with a small sigh. So small, Jaehwan barely caught it. But it was there, and that little exhale told Jaehwan more than any words could.

He knew Sanghyuk had already thought of everything that came to his mind concerning their tight situation. It was probably when he was outside, left alone in the unpleasant company of the whistling of the chilly wind and his own feral thoughts trying to take over his common sense.

“The trail is already blocked.” _No use trying to leave on foot even if my ankle didn’t hurt,_ Jaehwan added in his mind.

There were two of them caught in the storm, but only Jaehwan was trapped in that cabin.

Jaehwan took a big breath, contemplating. “You could just go alone and get help,” he stepped back once to get a better view at Sanghyuk gazing into his eyes, “I wouldn’t slow you down.”

Sanghyuk’s expression became dark at the words.

“You could get to the village in no time.” Sanghyuk clicked his tongue in disbelief as Jaehwan’s words registered in his mind.

“No.” Sanghyuk replied immediately. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this crazy weather,” the taller boy stated as he turned away from Jaehwan. His eyes scanned the inside of the cabin, looking for his own clothes he had discarded before leaving.

“Sanghyuk-ah, I can—,” Jaehwan attempted to stop the other half-heartedly. He furrowed his eyebrows at Sanghyuk’s behavior.

“What if something happens? Your ankle haven’t recovered fully yet,” Sanghyuk said dryly, throwing Jaehwan’s coat onto the bed to put his sweatpants on with one swift movement.

“I can take care of myself,” the older of the two announced with a roll of eyes, stepping closer to Sanghyuk as the boy took his sweater into his hands.

“Yeah, that’s why you ran downhill and broke your ankle,” Sanghyuk growled, and the sound reminded Jaehwan of a wild predator in the shadow of the deep woods.

It scared a part of Jaehwan.

“Because you can take care of yourself,” Sanghyuk continued, parodying Jaehwan’s previous statement with a thinner voice, over-exaggerating with hand gestures. He almost hit Jaehwan in the face with the shirt flying in his hand.

“I’m not going to run for a few weeks with an ankle like that—,” at Jaehwan’s words, Sanghyuk raised his eyebrows comically, “so the possibility of that happening again is pretty slim.”

There was another silence between them, longer than a stretched minute standing in front of the microwave oven – oh how Jaehwan missed the modern kitchen appliances already –, glaring at each other without blinking, an unconscious staring contest forming between them to determine which one of them would get his way.

In another language that Jaehwan didn’t remember the name of, the expression of a staring contest was called _to look a wolf in the eyes_ , and Jaehwan wanted to laugh at the irony because Sanghyuk blinked first, turning his attention away.

“Just let me stay,” Sanghyuk mumbled, defeated.

 

Jaehwan stares into the almond pupils of the animal, and the dark brown eyes look like molten chocolate, and Jaehwan scratches the wolf behind its perked ears.

“Sanghyuk-ah,” Jaehwan murmurs softly, trying to convey a whole message with only the way he carries his tone. Jaehwan stares into the familiar eyes of the wolf, seeing the dark haired boy behind everything. He can see the conscience of the boy and his memories that Jaehwan is included in.

From day number one, that eerie twilight in the thick fog lingering between the naked grey trunks of beech, with old and new dead leaves crunching under Jaehwan’s running shoes, as his legs rooted into the cold and dry soil, months ago, up until this very moment in the small emergency cabin in the middle of a screeching winter storm.

Jaehwan can see everything behind Sanghyuk’s eyes.

The shape of the wolf’s eyes begin to change, and in a blink, Sanghyuk is next to Jaehwan, soft pale skin instead of black fur, blunt nails instead of sharp claws.

Only the feeling remains.

“You said you were cold,” Sanghyuk grumbles quietly, his childish demeanor bringing a warm smile to Jaehwan’s face. Jaehwan scoots closer to the boy and wraps his strong arms around Sanghyuk’s narrow waist.

“If I said the sky was green and the grass was blue, would you believe me even then?” Jaehwan asks cheekily, grinning from ear to ear, loving the way as Sanghyuk’s ears flame up into red at the gentle teasing.

“This is the stupidest example you could come up with,” the younger boy scowls, shaking Jaehwan’s arms off his waist as he tries to turn around in their position. Jaehwan lets out a whine, scooting closer to Sanghyuk’s naked body – he must have shed his clothes while Jaehwan was asleep – and pressing his clothed chest against the boy’s back.

Jaehwan sighs at the warmth as he slides an arm under Sanghyuk’s arm resting on his side, and spreads his fingers on Sanghyuk’s chest, just above his heart.

Sanghyuk’s body curls on the floor, letting Jaehwan bring his knees up and envelope him.

“You’re still trembling,” Sanghyuk murmurs, his voice reverberating across his chest. It sends tiny sparks up Jaehwan’s fingers, through his arms, and a pleasant shiver spreads across his body.

Jaehwan’s stomach squeezes. “It’s not… from the cold,” he swallows. Nuzzling into the back of Sanghyuk’s neck, he breathes deeply, loudly, and hesitates for a moment before pressing his lips against the warm skin, muscles trembling with something that Jaehwan has tried to ignore most of the time. But now that they are so close, in this small space, together, without the risk of anyone unwanted seeing them, Jaehwan’s mind races away like wild horses on the field of burning desires.

The hearth behind him is burning his back already, and another timber pops loudly, taking Jaehwan’s mind off the boy in his arms just for a second.

That moment is enough for Sanghyuk with his quickness, the wolf lingering in his every fiber even when he’s human, and he’s kissing Jaehwan hungrily, tongue desperate for the familiarity that only Jaehwan can give him.

Jaehwan can feel the beast dripping from Sanghyuk’s mouth as he turns around and pushes Jaehwan to his back, climbing on top of him, lips curled in a predatory snarl.

Sanghyuk’s half hard already, and Jaehwan’s breath hitches before he can catch himself.

A small amount of fear mixes with red-hot lust, hotter than the core of the fire right next to them, and Sanghyuk’s fingertips scorch his skin with each touch, shirt suddenly yanked open and buttons flying, clattering on the wooden floor.

The world, the forest outside the cabin shivers in the cold bite of the snowstorm, freezing temperature unable to reach out for Jaehwan as Sanghyuk’s inner heat ignites Jaehwan’s fantasies.

The teeth that sink into Jaehwan’s neck are blunt, but a sharp pain plants images in the back of his mind, resurfacing memories, a brilliant white wolf jumping off the cliff and knocking Jaehwan to the ground, fangs bared and ready to tear into Jaehwan, his mind too hazy to try to fight the beast.

“I want you so bad,” Sanghyuk kisses the words into Jaehwan’s lips, hands roaming over his torso. He sits back onto Jaehwan’s hips, straddling him with his knees, and Jaehwan lifts his arms to rest his hands on Sanghyuk’s hipbones.

Jaehwan looks at the young boy on top of him, shoulders wider than Jaehwan’s and muscles defined from years of field work and different sports, and his sharp cheekbones on each side of a soft nose, and the pouty lips, now red and swollen, moist, and oh god Jaehwan wants him too, wants him so, so bad. His heart is yearning for Sanghyuk in ways that Jaehwan has never felt before.

The knowledge that Sanghyuk can transform into a fucking wolf makes it all the more irresistible.

“Me too,” Jaehwan nods slightly, neck stiff. “I want you too,” his voice stretches thin.

But he can’t have Sanghyuk, not right now.

 

The white wolf was an alpha, or had been once because it hadn’t a pack with it, but was still stronger than Sanghyuk, the packless omega of the village. Both had been following Jaehwan around whenever he went out for a run in the woods that surrounded the lakeside village, hidden in a misty valley, but the burn of the crisp air in his lungs and the rejuvenating pain in his muscles, along with the feeling of nature around him always managed to distract him enough so he never noticed his audience.

It had been nearing winter, just a month after Jaehwan moved to the village from Seoul, sky overcast and grey clouds bearing the news of the first snow. It was just a normal day, until Jaehwan noticed that his ties were loose, so he crouched down to fix them, and when he stood up, there it was, the white wolf, staring at him from the cliff just above his head.

Then it leaped, not giving Jaehwan any time to recover from his stupor, and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, skull knocked into a blunt rock, and mind buzzing as he tried to shield his face from the onslaught. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms, holding his lower arm against the throat of the wolf to keep it away.

And then the wolf was off him with a yelp, pinned to the ground by another beast with coarse black fur. The two animals began to fight, snapping jaws and jumping at each other, desperately trying to gain the upper hand. Jaehwan watched them, frozen to the ground. He was unable to flee, the fight in front of him rapidly turning bloody when the white wolf managed to bite down on the shoulder of the black, the animal's shrill howl yanking Jaehwan out of his trance.

Adrenaline rushed his system and made him pick up a larger rock. He waited until the black wolf was in cover and Jaehwan threw the rock at the white one, hitting it on the head. His arms were trembling so much it was a miracle that he could distract the animal.

Jaehwan did not look behind as he dashed back down the trail, and didn't stop running till he reached the village foreman’s house in the center. He banged on the door forcefully with his fists as if he was trying to knock it down.

The man opened the door with a confused expression, still dressed in his pajamas.

"Lee-sshi, what's wrong?" the village elder asked, somewhat groggily.

Jaehwan panted, holding onto the doorframe to catch his breath, but no words came out. After a few moments, the elder spoke up.

"Come in," the man suggested, helping Jaehwan into the residence, grabbing his arm when Jaehwan's legs gave in. Jaehwan crashed onto the nearest chair in the kitchen.

While Jaehwan calmed down and gathered his thoughts, the foreman offered him some tea. Jaehwan accepted the hot drink, the cup trembling between his fingers.

"Can you tell me what's gotten you so riled up?"

Jaehwan hesitated, staring into the steaming cup.

"I was on my morning run around the lake and I—," his voice broke, "saw two wolves. One of them attacked me."

"Wolves?" the foreman asked in genuine surprise. "They’ve never really come this close to the village... you say it was around the lake?"

"Yeah on the far side. Why didn't you tell me that there were wolves in the forest?" Jaehwan asked in annoyance. As the adrenaline disappeared from his veins, anger took its place.

He could've died out there any day. He went out for his morning run every day without the knowledge that there were such fearsome beasts lurking in the shadows, screw the fact that wolves tended to avoid human presence.

"They reside on the other side of the mountains so they’ve never come here before. The foresters always keep an eye on them but none of them saw any wolves since March," the foreman explained hurriedly as if trying to save his own hide.

Or so as Jaehwan thought because it was an evident fact that if he turned up dead, the village foreman would be the first one to be blamed.

"I'd be dead if it wasn't for that other wolf, for christ’s sake!" Jaehwan placed the cup on the table with more force than intended, and stood up hastily, almost knocking the chair over.

There was a crash and a muffled thump coming from somewhere in the house, and the foreman clicked his tongue as a reaction before turning his attention back to Jaehwan’s case.

"I assure you, Lee-sshi, we will make sure nothing like this happens again," the foreman promised, following Jaehwan out of the kitchen.

Jaehwan was still too pissed at the situation, still reeling from the knowledge that he was so close to death to look where he was going, and thus he crashed into a body when he turned around a corner.

A pained yelp left the boy's mouth, his face twisting. His hand flew to his shoulder, holding onto it tenderly as if it was wounded.

Jaehwan stared at the familiar boy until the elder reprimanded his son.

"Sanghyuk, where have you been?"

"Outside," the boy retorted and evaded the two olders' glances as he walked around them and disappeared down the hall, a small limp in his walk that the foreman didn’t notice but Jaehwan couldn’t miss as he stared after Sanghyuk.

 

Sanghyuk was the foreman's only son, and had a strange fixation on Jaehwan since the day he moved to the village. It wasn't anything weird or new per say, Jaehwan had been stalked plenty back in the city, one of the reasons why he had decided to move to a calmer place far from Seoul, so it was at least something familiar to Jaehwan in his new neighborhood. It was a weird way to quench his homesickness, the rural life a bit too hard on such a city boy like him, but Jaehwan welcomed the familiarity.   

On the other hand, Jaehwan found the young adult interesting and his clumsy stalking funny, and when one late afternoon Sanghyuk knocked on his door, bringing Jaehwan a few food containers with home-cooked dinner courtesy of some of the many elderly ladies residing in the village, their friendship began as smoothly as one could, with nervous smiles and half-finished sentences.

They spent a lot of time together when Saghyuk didn't have to help out around the village or when Jaehwan was taking breaks from the utterly unproductive writing sessions that only ended up in Jaehwan pulling his hair out. It was a nice distraction from Jaehwan’s work, the empty word document devoid of sentences and the flashing cursor that was beginning to drive Jaehwan mad.

Their relationship developed, the threads of their lives entwining tightly until the white wolf – having gone into hiding after the first meeting – attacked Jaehwan again on a dry December morning.

This time, however, Jaehwan wasn't alone on his morning exercise.

Sanghyuk had been kissing him hungrily, like a needy and spoiled little child, the only place where they could truly be alone being deep in the forest. Jaehwan had been pushed down onto the trunk of a fallen tree, and Sanghyuk was on him in an instant, so quickly that had always irked Jaehwan, the way the boy sometimes moved without paying any thought to it.

Sanghyuk was— he was panting into Jaehwan’s mouth, not from the demanding run they had interrupted in favor for this other type of exercise, but from the fierce desire that was dripping from his dark features. Jaehwan was enchanted, pulled into a world that only consisted of the sensations Sanghyuk cast on his body, and so, Jaehwan missed the almost inaudible crunch of leaves from somewhere behind his back.

Suddenly Sanghyuk broke the kiss and yanked Jaehwan forward, down onto the ground.

Jaehwan's muscles jerked when he heard the growl of the wolf. He was about to yell for Sanghyuk to run, but Sanghyuk beat him to it.

"Get out of here hyung!"

Sanghyuk was in the middle of tearing his sweater off while staring into the eyes of the white beast circling around them carefully, ready to surge at them. Sanghyuk snarled, lips curling, and the sound that left his mouth was inhuman.

The white wolf stared at Jaehwan, disregarding Sanghyuk, and Jaehwan was too distracted crawling backwards until his back hit a tree to notice that Sanghyuk was gone.

Before the beast could attack, the black wolf was in front of Jaehwan, blocking the way.

 

Jaehwan strokes lazy circles and lines into Sanghyuk’s back, secretly hoping that the boy would understand the words he draws on his skin, thoughts he wishes he could tell Sanghyuk without any burden that weighs down on his heart.

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk speaks up quietly. The room is better illuminated now, a new fire burning in the stove to keep the whole of the cabin warm, and the flames dance on Sanghyuk’s face when he pulls his head back from where it was resting on Jaehwan’s chest. He looks at Jaehwan, and his eyes are too innocent, too vulnerable for a twenty-year old boy.

Jaehwan hums tiredly, shifting in his position. He’s had to discard his underwear after it became wet with his come, so his lower half is confined in a dusty sleeping bag a forester or hunter had left behind, probably for emergencies.

They’ll deal with the aftermath of their stay in the cabin once they make it back to the village safely, but for now, they will use anything that’s available to them there.

“Sometimes he still haunts me,” Sanghyuk whispers, and his fingers tighten around Jaehwan’s bicep, unconsciously. Jaehwan opens his eyes, and the way Sanghyuk’s eyebrows are arched squeezes his heart tightly. “In my dreams. He stalks me. Hunts me. He jumps at me from the darkness and tears out my throat, and I can’t transform—,” his voice breaks.

Jaehwan pulls Sanghyuk to his chest, wishing that the sleeping bag wouldn’t restrain him so much in his movement, so he could wrap his legs around Sanghyuk as well, enveloping his bigger body.

“Shh,” Jaehwan soothes him. “He can’t harm you anymore.”

A quiet sob rakes through Sanghyuk’s body and Jaehwan wishes he could reach into his mind and tear out the bad memories.

“He’s— it’s gone.”

 

There was blood all over Sanghyuk. It dripped onto Jaehwan’s floor, and got onto his favorite white shirt, but he couldn’t care less that it was ruined, not when it was Sanghyuk stumbling onto the porch in the backyard of Jaehwan’s rented house, crimson streaks on his body, his hair matted and his face pale, his eyes feral and frightened at the same time.

“Most of it is not mine,” Sanghyuk said slowly, his voice even as he stared over Jaehwan’s shoulder, into an imaginary distance.

“What happened?!” Jaehwan shrieked, trying to keep his voice low not to raise commotion in the dead of the night. He caught Sanghyuk when the boy leaned forward, his legs giving up. Jaehwan almost fell to the floor with Sanghyuk’s whole body weighing down on him.

By the time Sanghyuk was undressed and sitting in Jaehwan’s bath tub, the deep wounds on his body were already healing, slowly, but whenever Jaehwan cast a glance at them, the holes were just a little bit smaller than before.

Sanghyuk was huddled in the far corner of the square tub, his back facing Jaehwan and the peaks of his spine protruding dangerously. There were angry red claw marks all over his broken skin, and Jaehwan could barely stop himself from blacking out from the sight of flesh. His knuckles were white from the strong grip he had on the edge of the tub, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe the boy, as he battled the dizziness that buzzed in his head.

“He was my uncle,” Sanghyuk spoke up quietly, still not looking at Jaehwan. He was hugging his knees to his chest, shoulders shaking. “Used to be. He— he taught me… he taught me everything that there was to know about this—,” he looked at his palm, then balled his fist.

Jaehwan knew what he was implying.

Sometimes he still had hard time convincing himself that the whole thing with Sanghyuk being able to turn into a wolf was real. It was just above what his creative mind was willing to accept as reality rather than just imagination.

“He taught me how to resist the call of the beast. How to resurface—”

Jaehwan’s mind was trying its best to keep up with Sanghyuk, but it barely made any sense to him. Still, he listened.

“And then he— he just— he let the wolf take over him and he—,” Sanghyuk was fighting his tears from spilling over, but they were clear in his voice, a lump in his throat, “—he killed mom in his rampage.”

All Sanghyuk had told Jaehwan about his mother was that he was fifteen when she left them, and Jaehwan didn’t pry further. She didn’t leave Sanghyuk; she was murdered— by her own brother.

Sanghyuk’s cries rattled through Jaehwan’s chest, and his hands twitched with physical pain when Sanghyuk doubled over and buried his face in his palms with a pained gasp. Jaehwan could only see his lips curling down desperately.

“I— I just…,” the boy hiccupped, then hesitated a few seconds. “Could you… leave me alone for a bit?”

Jaehwan left the bathroom without a word, placing a clean towel on the counter for Sanghyuk. He stepped into his bedroom, and slid down the wall with his hands on his mouth, heaving, trying to swallow his panic.

The white wolf had been Sanghyuk’s uncle, once upon a time, before he answered the beast’s call.

 

“I don’t want to…,” Sanghyuk whispers, his eyes squeezed shut. He tightens his hold around Jaehwan, scooting even closer, but it’s not enough, his heat is not enough.

“You have to,” Jaehwan stutters quietly, his teeth clattering as he tries to keep the shiver at bay. His whole body is trembling even under the layers of his clothes, now dry, with Sanghyuk wrapped around him, and coats and the furs covering Jaehwan’s front.

The fire has already gone out, hours ago, long before the sky even began to brighten. Everything is dim, sun covered in the still raging snowstorm, no candles and logs to burn and give light. One of the windows is so frozen it’s impossible to make out anything through the glass, while the other has been shattered while they were sleeping, and they could only do so much covering the hole, a pile of snow building underneath the window.

The wind screeches so loudly, they can barely hear their thoughts.

Jaehwan cuddles against Sanghyuk’s chest, burying himself deeper into the boy’s embrace.

“S-Sanghyuk-ah,” Jaehwan stammers. “I’m— freezing.”

“I can’t leave you like this,” Sanghyuk objects, shifting Jaehwan in his embrace so he can rock them back and forth gently to keep Jaehwan from remaining motionless for too long.

“Y-you have—have to,” Jaehwan whispers, and his breath billowing from his mouth is so white and dense that if Sanghyuk couldn’t wrap his mind around just how cold he was, now he would.

“I’ll… I’ll just gather some wood first,” the boy says, trying to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve leaving Jaehwan for long enough for his body to freeze in the cold cabin. All the shabby building does now is shield them from the strong wind, but does nothing against the cold anymore. Not with the heating stove just a home for ash.

Jaehwan shakes his head, movements uncoordinated. “There’s no time… I’ll freeze without y-your heat.”

“The village is on the other side of the mountain. You wouldn’t make the climb, not with your ankle,” Sanghyuk reasons, but his voice trails off at the end as Jaehwan squirms in his hold. He loosens his arms, only for Jaehwan to pull his legs up and turn around, facing Sanghyuk.

“Then the other village on this side,” Jaehwan suggests as he rests his head on Sanghyuk’s shoulder.

“It’s too far away,” Sanghyuk shakes his head softly, burying his nose in Jaehwan’s matted hair. A couple of hours ago it was still wet, ice cold from the heavy snowing, and greasy because Jaehwan hasn’t washed it for days, his knitted hat that he has worn to the outside lost to the wind.

“I have no other choice.” The words come out with difficulty as if they were holding onto Jaehwan’s throat. His chest squeezes when Sanghyuk lets out a pained whine, his fingers raking across Jaehwan’s back as if he was looking for a leverage, to hold onto something, to make sure Jaehwan was still there with him.

“Sanghyuk-ah,” Jaehwan continues. He pulls away slightly, just enough so he can look at Sanghyuk. Cupping Sanghyuk’s face lovingly, he places a chaste kiss on the boy’s peach lips. “Save me again.”

 

The first time Jaehwan saw Sanghyuk transform, he fainted. His brain was just too overwhelmed as the bare foundations of the world he had grown up in crumbled in a blink of an eye, the same amount of time it took for Sanghyuk to become a wolf.

There was nothing climatic about it; no glorious shine to blind the onlookers and no gruesome bone-breaking with rapid fur growth. One moment it was Sanghyuk standing in front of Jaehwan, his face twisted in helpless rage, and then in the next, Jaehwan had to look down to see the charcoal fur and the beast it held within. The only piece of clothing Sanghyuk was wearing before his change, a pair of boxers, lay torn apart between its legs, but by that time Jaehwan was already on the floor, mind shutting down.

When he came to, he was lying on the couch of his living room, just a few paces from where they had been quarreling before Sanghyuk confessed everything and showed Jaehwan his greatest secret.

Sanghyuk was sitting on the floor, dressed in one of Jaehwan’s robes, lazy fingers taking steps on Jaehwan’s shoulder and upper arm. When Jaehwan shifted, the touch was gone, and Sanghyuk slid away from the couch, his expression guarded and tearing at Jaehwan’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” Sanghyuk whispered, head hanging low to hide his face from Jaehwan. “You hit your head.”

It didn’t hurt, his skull. But his chest was in pain, so much pain that it was almost physical.

Jaehwan reached out and placed a finger under Sanghyuk’s chin to lift his head and force the boy to look at him. Sanghyuk’s eyes were downcast.

“You saved me,” Jaehwan said just as softly. “From the white wolf. It was you,” he confirmed, and it was enough to make Sanghyuk look into his eyes. It was glinting with a layer of tears, about to spill over the edges.

Sanghyuk let out a shaky breath and took Jaehwan’s hand into his, nuzzling Jaehwan’s palm.

 

Sanghyuk drops the pile of branches he’s been cradling when he sees the wind trying to tear the cabin’s door out of its frame and the streak of red melting into the snow, the imprint of someone being dragged out from the cabin clearly visible.

“Jaehwan!” Sanghyuk screams, and with blood thumping in his ears, he rounds the building, following the indents in the snow.

There are footprints of a wolf next to them, and confusion pushes at the fear of Jaehwan’s sudden disappearance and the obvious signs of what happened.

And then rage.

He hasn’t been too far from Jaehwan, but since he couldn’t find an axe in the cabin, Sanghyuk had to look for thicker branches. He might have wandered too far for him to hear Jaehwan over the screeching of the wind.

Sanghyuk calls out Jaehwan’s name again, following the red droplets. It can’t have been long since—

Jaehwan’s scream echoes between the tree trunks, and before Sanghyuk knows it, he’s flying downhill towards the source, heart drumming against his ribcage so hard as if it was trying to tear out from his chest, and there are tears prickling at his eyes, no— no, those are icy snowflakes cutting into his skin.

The cold might not affect Sanghyuk, but pain still does.

“Sanghyuk-ah!”

Sanghyuk doesn’t bother with undressing, his mind is focused on only one thing: save Jaehwan. Save Jaehwan, protect him at all costs—

Kill his uncle.

Once and for all.

He shouldn’t have been a coward and let him go with a warning. He should have ended him when he had the chance. He should have torn the wolf apart. He shouldn’t have been afraid to—

Because now it’s Jaehwan paying for his mistake.

Sanghyuk’s last thought is Jaehwan’s face before he lets the beast take over him. 

 

There were a number of things Sanghyuk was scared of, Jaehwan knew that. When you spent so much time with someone as Jaehwan spent in Sanghyuk’s company, you began to pick up even the smallest things, their habits; you learnt things about them.

What Jaehwan learnt about Sanghyuk with each passing day was that despite his courage and absolute willingness to jump into anything, sometimes even without thinking of his own safety, the fact that he put everyone before himself, the fact that Sanghyuk had been protecting the village from the pack that resided on the other side of the mountain— despite all of this, he was very afraid.

Sanghyuk was afraid that one day when he turned, he wouldn’t be able to come back.

He was afraid of the beast that was imprisoned in his chest. He was afraid that one day the chain his uncle had helped Sanghyuk put around the wolf’s neck would snap, and with it Sanghyuk would snap as well.

Like his uncle had done years before.

Because after that, there was no coming back.

Sanghyuk might have lived in the village all his life, but through his uncle, he’d learnt about other people like them, living in cities and other countries, and his uncle knew a lot of things. He said—

He said that once the beast was freed, it would devour the human.

The pack on the other side was a group of lost human souls, unable to return.

Sanghyuk was afraid of turning.

“Then don’t turn anymore,” Jaehwan said adamantly, stroking the back of Sanghyuk’s head.

“I can’t do that,” Sanghyuk mumbled into the pillow. He’d been more emotional since the revelation of his secret, bared himself raw to Jaehwan, and Jaehwan made sure to handle his feelings with the outmost care. Jaehwan was glad that the barrier between them had been destroyed, because Sanghyuk was— Sanghyuk was—

Jaehwan didn’t know. But he was able to let Sanghyuk know of his own feelings, and this type of honesty without having to worry about anything was uplifting after a lifetime of lying and wearing masks every day when he went outside. It was something Jaehwan had thought that had been lost from the people he’d met before Sanghyuk, something that Jaehwan had only seen in works of fiction, a type of long-lost fantasy that disappeared as society changed throughout the ages.

“It’s my job to protect the village,” Sanghyuk continued. He turned his head to look at Jaehwan, bleary eyes barely open and creases on his cheeks, hair a bird’s nest. The sight was endearing, and Jaehwan’s heart was a balloon swelling with love.

Jaehwan kissed Sanghyuk, a quick peck on his slightly pouting lips.

“Your father said they haven’t seen any wolves around since March,” Jaehwan countered. He didn’t know why he wanted to keep the conversation going, but he knew that it was for Sanghyuk. There was something he had to lead Sanghyuk to, he just wasn’t sure what exactly it was and how to do it.

He just wanted to make Sanghyuk stop being afraid of himself.

It was eating Sanghyuk alive, he knew it, he saw it.

“It’s because I—,” Sanghyuk took a deep breath, turning away from Jaehwan with his whole body, onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I— killed one of them.”

Jaehwan pushed himself to his elbows to see Sanghyuk’s face better, but the boy closed his eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice. They— the wolf was preying on a villager. I couldn’t let them…”

“Oh, Sanghyuk-ah,” Jaehwan whispered.

Sanghyuk welcomed his embrace, desperately so, as he clung to Jaehwan’s back with his arms around his body. As they shifted around, the blanket slid off them, and the room’s chilly temperature prickled on their naked torsos, but Jaehwan didn’t mind, because Sanghyuk was warmer than what the house’s heating system could ever produce.

“Jaehwan-hyung,” Sanghyuk let out a shuddering breath, and Jaehwan hummed deeply. “If— promise me something…”

Jaehwan nodded, urging Sanghyuk to continue, though it took the boy a few minutes to collect his thoughts. They remained in their embrace the whole time, unwilling to part.

“I— I don’t want to be— like them,” Sanghyuk stuttered. “If I ever—,”

“Don’t,” Jaehwan cut in as he pulled away. He stared at Sanghyuk and his downcast eyes avoiding him. Jaehwan sat up in the bed, blanket pooling in his lap. With Sanghyuk’s heat gone from his skin, he shivered, but didn’t move to wrap the sheets around his body.

Sanghyuk pushed himself into sitting position as well, their knees touching the slightest.

“Hyung, promise me,” Sanghyuk repeated, this time more deliberately. He moved forward to cup Jaehwan’s cheeks in his hands, and the blanket slid off him completely, but even though he was naked, there wasn’t a hair on his arms that stood up with goosebumps in the cold room.

“Promise me that if I ever lose myself, you’ll put me down—”

“Don’t ask me to do this—”

“I don’t want to hurt people,” Sanghyuk whispered brokenly. He’s settled in Jaehwan’s lap, curling around him with the gentlest of touches, and held onto his shoulders as if his life depended on it.

“You won’t,” Jaehwan replied, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “You’re strong. Stronger than the wolf.”

He felt Sanghyuk shake his head without any force to it. Jaehwan held the back of Sanghyuk’s neck protectively.

“My uncle was stronger than me, yet it happened to him.”

Jaehwan didn’t say anything to it, because the only thing he could tell Sanghyuk was that he didn’t think his uncle was stronger, that Sanghyuk had many reasons not to answer the wolf, but he knew the first one would have been a lie, while the latter just seemed— it wasn’t what Sanghyuk needed to hear at that moment.

“He joined the feral pack and became their alpha,” Sanghyuk continued his explanation, and Jaehwan kept quiet, listening attentively. Somewhere deep down, he must have already come to this conclusion, but he needed to hear it from Sanghyuk to make sure it was the truth.

“They grew even bolder. Killed a few villagers in the following years. I didn’t know what else to do to protect the village, so I—,” Sanghyuk hesitated, “I began picking them off one by one.”

Jaehwan swallowed, trying to steer away from the image of Sanghyuk— killing. He knew nature’s laws were different, that in the wild it was kill or be killed, but Sanghyuk was different, he was both a human and a wolf, and neither at the same time. No laws should have applied to him.

He shouldn’t have been doing it.

“After each of them,” Sanghyuk spoke, his voice growing quieter with each word. “It was harder and harder to come back,” he choked out with a tiny squeak that his chords gave off.

“You should have told the foresters to take care of them instead,” Jaehwan whispered, stroking Sanghyuk’s back, his fingers gliding over his spine. Jaehwan wondered if he could feel the same when Sanghyuk was a wolf and Jaehwan could touch him.

“You shouldn’t be the one doing this, it’s—,”

“It has to be me.”

 _No. It doesn’t_ , Jaehwan thought, but Sanghyuk was pushing away and standing up from the floor, and Jaehwan couldn’t do anything but stare after the boy.

 

Jaehwan wakes up, and he doesn’t know where he is, but he doesn’t care because he’s warm and comfortable, and that’s all that matters to him at the moment. There’s a soft pillow under his head, but when Jaehwan turns his head, a sudden dizziness washes over him, and his eyes pop open.

Everything is bright, but not white, and most importantly— it’s warm.

He’s inside.

No snowstorm, no wind so loud that he can barely hear anything; there’s a low buzzing coming from somewhere, but it’s deep and continuous, almost lulling him back to sleep.

He tries to move, but his limbs are still asleep, and Jaehwan feels like as if he was submerged in something thick that kept him from moving too much. A sharp pain flares up in his ankle, the broken one, but it quickly fades to a dull throb, and even if Jaehwan wanted to move his ankle more, he wouldn’t be able to do so because there’s something around his foot that holds his ankle in place.

Even with his head still swimming, Jaehwan realizes that he’s in some kind of infirmary, if the equipment and objects in the glass cabinets, or the IV stand next to his bed are anything to go by. He doesn’t recognize the room though.

A few images flash into his mind, memories, and Jaehwan realizes that something is amiss.

Sanghyuk.

A door creaks, and Jaehwan watches the silhouette of a person through the thin curtain as it comes closer, hoping that it would be the boy, unharmed and no longer worrying about Jaehwan.

To Jaehwan’s utter dismay, instead of Sanghyuk, a middle aged man rounds the edge of the curtain and comes to a sudden halt when he notices Jaehwan staring at him.

“Oh, you’re awake?” he asks, blinking at Jaehwan. “How are you feeling?” the doctor stops next to the bed.

Jaehwan tries to gather his thoughts, but he’s still a bit woozy from whatever drug they must have given him. All of his mental capacity is focused on trying to recall the events, trying to see if he can remember anything about Sanghyuk or where he might be.

“H-how— what happened?” he croaks and looks at the doctor. The man checks the IV bag before answering with a deep sigh.

“A hunter went out to collect snares when he found you nearby. You were unconscious, and not only was your ankle bleeding but it was broken as well…” the man trails off, looking at Jaehwan questioningly as he folds the blanket off Jaehwan’s left leg to show him that it’s bandaged and secured in a splint.

“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor pries further, and Jaehwan doesn’t really mind, because he wants to know as well.

He tries to recollect what happened after the shock of the white wolf jumping in through the window of the cabin and dragging him out through the door somehow, but he just can’t. As if the shock of the least possible thing happening was keeping his memories from resurfacing.

“A wolf attacked me,” Jaehwan answers, wrinkling his forehead. He is glad that he doesn’t need to lie, that he just has to withhold some part of the truth. He can’t just tell everything to this man, especially not when he doesn’t know anything about Sanghyuk being there.

“I got caught in the snowstorm, so I tried to wait it out in an emergency cabin, but I had to leave. That’s when the wolf attacked. I tried to run away but I—,” Jaehwan looks away so that his facial expression wouldn’t betray him. “I tripped, and I guess I broke my ankle. The wolf tried to drag me away but— I don’t remember anything after that.”

The doctor lets out another sigh. “The hunter didn’t see any wolf tracks nearby. You must have gotten away somehow.” Jaehwan bites into his lip.

Where is Sanghyuk?

“How long?” He hopes it hasn’t been too long. He needs to make sure Sanghyuk is okay.

“Two days,” the doctor says, and Jaehwan almost chokes on his own saliva. Before he can say anything however, there’s a commotion outside the room, and the doctor lets out a groan. “Uh, your village foreman—,”

“Where is he?!” said man yells as he barges into the room, and Jaehwan sits up unconsciously, gripping the blanket closer as if it was going to protect him from the foreman’s anger.

The elder appears from behind the curtain, and rage is written all over his face. “Where is my son?!”

“Ajusshi, please, calm down,” the doctor tries, his hands in the air, but the foreman is on the other side of the bed, and he’s grabbing Jaehwan’s shoulders, shaking his upper body.

“Where is Sanghyuk?! You two left together three days ago! What happened?!”

Jaehwan opens his mouth, but no word comes out as the foreman keeps shaking his shoulders forcefully, banging his back against the headboard. The doctor is quick to separate them, but there’s only so much he can do from the other side.

“I— I don’t know,” Jaehwan stammers.

His mind is on overdrive, trying to remember everything while trying to come up with a lie that would calm the foreman for now, but what occupies his brain the most is—

Sanghyuk is nowhere to be found.

Sanghyuk is— gone?

He tries to tell the foreman from the beginning, when they left the village for a little trip around the lower parts of the mountain, planning to be back before the snowstorm could hit, but the clouds arrived a lot sooner than what the weather forecast had told, and they were lucky to have found the emergency cabin in time. And then—

“We left the cabin when we saw the storm getting weaker. But then a wolf attacked us—“

“There are no wolves around here!” the foreman yells in exasperation, as if he has run out of patience with a stubborn child. “There. Are. No. Wolves!”

“Ajusshi,” the doctor begins carefully, “his ankle was bitten by a predator.”

The foreman glares at the man as he steps away. He points a finger at Jaehwan threateningly.

“If something happens to Sanghyuk, you will be the one responsible for it!”

Jaehwan barely resists the urge to let the whimper out that tears through his throat.

 

Another two days pass, crawling at a snail’s pace, and Jaehwan spends every minute of it worrying about Sanghyuk. Being locked – figuratively – in his home, unable to leave the house without help because of the snow and his ankle is not exactly the reason why he feels like going crazy.

It’s the worry that eats away at him from the inside out.

The village, and now the police are both searching for Sanghyuk, but the area needed to be covered is too big, and the amount of snow and the early sunset are a serious obstacle that they can’t tackle. There’s also a hunt for the wolves, and Jaehwan is surprised that it was the foreman who’s initiated it— he’s been the one who opposed the idea of wolves the most in the village.

Still, after two days, there are no news, no progress at all, and it— it drives Jaehwan crazy. The constant worry, the helplessness, the desperation, they are tearing him apart, and he can’t concentrate on anything, nothing binds his attention, his mind constantly replaying every moment he’s spent with Sanghyuk. He prays, the scented tendrils of smoke burning his lungs, and he writes down scattered words in the notebook Sanghyuk’s gotten for him – he hadn’t known that Jaehwan was more of a laptop guy, but the flustered awkwardness and the blush on his cheek after Jaehwan told him he preferred the keyboard to pens was endearing to him, and that was one of the most important moments that made Jaehwan realize that he was falling for the boy.

But these are not enough, the praying, the writing, everything leads him to Sanghyuk, even the most mundane chores like eating and watching the TV or surfing the net, he’s doing them on automatic, while his mind keeps straying to Sanghyuk, and tears prickle at his eyes each time.

So when a police officer visits him on the third day after waking up in the infirmary, Jaehwan doesn’t hesitate to get out of the house and let the man help him into the police jeep waiting for them on the barely cleared road.

“I’ll take you to the police station in the city for the questioning as you were the last person seen with Han Sanghyuk,” the officer says, eyes trained on the blinding white road leading away from the village.

“Am I a suspect?” Jaehwan asks carefully, keeping his guard on. His hands aren’t bound with handcuffs and he’s sitting in the passenger seat yet he feels like he’s been just arrested. At the thought his heart picks up the pace, the realization slow to hit him—

He needs a cover story. A plausible one. The police won’t be satisfied with a simple ‘ _we were separated, I don’t know what happened to him’_ like the villagers, and they won’t stop like the village foreman did when he just kept repeating that he didn’t know anything else.

It’s one thing to write about things like these in his novels, and it’s another to experience it, to be in the center of it.

“As of yet, no,” the officer shakes his head, glancing at Jaehwan in the rearview mirror. “First, we need to find him, but his father might press charges against you for failing to help,” the man explains, a hint of empathy on his face.

Jaehwan leans back, hitting his head in the seat’s headrest with a frustrated exhale. He trains his eyes out the window on his side, and he has to squint at the brightness of the white fields that run along the road. The forest stretches on the other side, dark and hiding a possibly feral Sanghyuk.

He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about the promise he refused to make. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility of seeing Sanghyuk in his wolf form, unable to change back. To never see his face, ever.

“Shit,” the police officer barks suddenly, and steps on the break. Jaehwan’s body lurches forward at the sudden force, but the seatbelt yanks him back.

“What is it?” he asks before looking up, but the officer is staring out of the windshield, leaning against the steering wheel that he’s gripping tightly.

Jaehwan follows the officer’s line of sight, and his heart skips a beat.

The dark fur is even easier to spot in the white backdrop, and the wolf— it’s Sanghyuk, Jaehwan knows it’s Sanghyuk, even from this far.

“It’s a wolf,” the police officer blinks in surprise, as if not believing his own eyes. He shakes his head and turns to Jaehwan. “Stay in the car, and don’t leave until I come back,” he commands, and Jaehwan is so caught off guard that he doesn’t even notice the officer getting out of the car carefully.

Jaehwan stares at the black shape in the distance without blinking, but the backdoor of the vehicle slamming shut pulls him out of the trance.

The officer is holding a rifle, lifted up in a fashion that he’s ready to shoot the wolf.

Ready to shoot Sanghyuk.

The yell that comes out of Jaehwan’s mouth is unintelligible, but the sound of him rattling the handle, trying to open the locked door distracts the officer, making the man turn his head and look at Jaehwan. He fixes Jaehwan with a hard glare, and Jaehwan settles down in his seat.

It’s just enough time for Sanghyuk to get off the road and disappear into the forest.

The police officer bangs on the hood of the jeep. “Don’t leave the car!” he repeats loudly so Jaehwan can hear him, and follows Sanghyuk into the woods, legs sinking into the snow. Even though the trees are naked and rather sparse, Jaehwan loses sight of the officer quickly, and he’s left alone in the car to his own thoughts.

He doesn’t want to, so he turns on the radio, but the reception is bad in the area and the only available channel is crackling, sounds grainy and impossible to enjoy, so Jaehwan turns it off quickly. There’s a two-way radio mounted on the dashboard that the officer has left in his hurry, but Jaehwan doesn’t touch it.

After a few minutes of drowning in toxic questions and _what if_ s, Jaehwan unbuckles himself and tries the driver side door to see if it’s open. He curses when the handle doesn’t do anything. Peering into the glove compartment, he finds documents and a flashlight that he leaves there, no use to him.

Climbing to the back seat takes him considerably long because he has to be careful of his immobile ankle, but once he’s done, he lets out a deep exhale, shivering in the cooling cabin.

The backdoor opens easily, and Jaehwan smiles in triumph until he realizes that he hasn’t thought this far.

Still he gets out with difficulty, pulling the crutch they’ve stashed in the back to support himself as he leans against the side of the car. It’s a lot colder outside, but at least he’s got more space to move around.

“Sanghyuk-ah!” Jaehwan shouts towards the forest, but not even a winter bird flies off into the sky at the disturbance. Jaehwan calls out for Sanghyuk two more times, and each time there’s only silence to welcome him, and his heart sinks lower into disappointment.

What was he expecting?

Sanghyuk has been gone for five days now, out in the cold, possibly spent every moment as a wolf.

Why hasn’t Sanghyuk returned yet? Why hasn’t he shown up at home? The temperature doesn’t affect him as did the snowstorm, he could’ve returned easily.

Unless—

No. That can’t be.

Jaehwan shakes his head, but he can’t undo his thoughts. A lump forms in his throat, cutting off his oxygen supply for a moment too long.

A distinct howl shakes the silence, and blood freezes in Jaehwan’s veins. Though he’s rarely heard the sound in real life, he’s seen enough documentaries to know what animal it is.

Sanghyuk is quick to show up, the dark spot pulling Jaehwan’s attention away from everything else immediately. The moment Jaehwan sees Sanghyuk, his heart stops beating for a fragment of a moment, a painful moment, and he doesn’t know how to react.

They stare at each other, wolf eyes unblinking, and when Jaehwan’s eyes twitch, forcing him to blink, the next thing he sees is Sanghyuk closing the distance between them, snarling at him.

Jaehwan releases the grip he’s had on his crutch and the car, and falls to the ground into the snow, and that’s the only thing that saves him as the wolf crashes against the door, leaving an indent in the metal. Sanghyuk staggers back from the hit, giving Jaehwan enough time to grab the only weapon he has and try to crawl away.

With nothing solid to hold onto, Jaehwan barely puts any distance between him and the wolf, and Sanghyuk is on him in an instant, jaw open and fangs bared. Jaehwan yelps and brings the crutch between them, and Sanghyuk bites down on the metal rod.

“S-Sanghyuk-ah!” Jaehwan chokes in horror. “Sanghyuk-ah, it’s me! Jaehwan!”

The beast growls loudly, yanking at the crutch, trying to tear it from Jaehwan’s hands, but Jaehwan doesn’t let him. Snow begins to seep into his clothes, the small of his back directly exposed as his jacket rides up with his movements, but the pain is nothing compared to the terror in Jaehwan’s chest.

Adrenaline rushes him in a sudden wave, reminding him of the white wolf’s first attack, and even though it’s been months since then, the feeling is so familiar, the situation, as if it just happened a day ago.

Flight or fight response kicks in, floods his brain, and if Jaehwan wasn’t currently under a bloodthirsty wolf, he would’ve kicked himself for even considering such a stupid idea, but now is a different time, and it’s all that he can think of—

He pushes at the crutch to get the wolf’s head away, and frees one of his hands. Sanghyuk tries to bypass the crutch, but Jaehwan is faster, and the sloping part of it props open Sanghyuk’s jaw, fangs getting caught in a way that he can’t close his mouth. The choking, gurgling sound erupting from his throat breaks Jaehwan’s heart, but he has to do this.

Jaehwan snakes an arm around Sanghyuk’s neck, arm sinking into the black fur, and tightens his hold as much as he can, pulling the trashing animal close to him. He knows it’s stupidly dangerous to him, but their position is weird, and for some reason, Sanghyuk doesn’t utilize his claws at all.

A frightening growl leaves Sanghyuk, mist billowing from his nostrils as he struggles against Jaehwan’s hold.

“Sanghyuk, it’s me,” Jaehwan says loudly. He hooks his legs around Sanghyuk’s lower parts, immobilizing the wolf further. “Listen to my voice, listen to me, please,” he pleads as he stares into Sanghyuk’s dark pupils.

How much he’s stared into those eyes, the only thing that remained the same whether Sanghyuk was human or animal. No matter what, Jaehwan could always see himself in there—

But now there’s nothing. It’s just the eyes of a wild animal.

“Please, Sanghyuk-ah, I’m begging you,” Jaehwan continues, desperation clawing at his throat. Even with his other arm around Sanghyuk’s neck, he feels that his strength is quickly waning, and he doesn’t know until how long he can keep this up.

“Please don’t leave me, there’s so much I wanted to tell you, so much I wanted to do together with you,” he knows he’s babbling now, saying anything that first comes to his mind, but he doesn’t care anymore.

It’s his last chance.

Either Sanghyuk comes around or tears him apart.

Jaehwan has already decided.

“Sanghyuk-ah, Sanghyuk-ah,” he echoes, sudden tears slipping down his face. He closes his eyes tightly. “Come back to me.”

The wolf stops moving.

He feels something drip onto his numb cheeks, and the crutch falls to his chest.

No fur prickles at his arms anymore.

“J-Jaehwan-hyung.”

 

Though some of his novels were New York Times Bestseller, and his poetry compilations sold very well worldwide, all translated to a dozen languages, it’s in Seoul where the most people recognize Jaehwan. A pair of sunglasses, a hat or a face mask is enough to conceal his identity, but they bring unwanted attention from – mostly female – fans of those young idols, thinking he’s one of them just trying to blend in and go unnoticed.

So Jaehwan opts for the biggest pair of sunglasses he owns, and waits in the hallway just outside of the auditorium with a dozen others, mainly parents and closer relatives that occasionally send him weird looks until Jaehwan gets sick of it, folds the glasses and slides it in the breast pocket of his shirt. He sees a few wives widen their eyes in recognition, but none of them walk up to him, and Jaehwan is glad that they leave him alone. He wouldn’t mind chatting with his readers and giving off a few autographs any other time, but—

He checks the time on his phone, and notices a message from his agent, sent a few minutes ago.

_Where the fuck are you?? You were supposed to meet with the American publisher's representative!!!!_

Jaehwan lets out a pained groan. His fingers fly over the screen with annoyed speed, all the while half-listening to the ceremony in the auditorium. It should have ended like an hour ago, but the female voice that’s been talking for the better part of the whole thing is still going on about something unimportant.

 _Hongbinie yah, I told you I was going to be unavailable today~,_ Jaehwan types and adds a cute emoticon at the end, just to rile up Hongbin a bit more.

Hongbin is quick to reply.

 _YOU told me the date was going to be okay so I arranged the meeting, but then you JUST CHANGED YOUR MIND!!!!_ And then another comes immediately: _You can’t just do that!!_

Jaehwan snorts and clicks his tongue.

_Something more important came up._

There’s a roar of clapping coming from the auditorium, so Jaehwan steps back from next to the doors to lean against the wall casually, out of the way.

Students begin to filter out of the room.

 _What could be more important than this??_ Hongbin asks, but Jaehwan locks his phone without replying when he sees a pair of black dress shoes stopping in front of him, and looks up.

“Now I’m officially a university student,” Sanghyuk says with a bright smile and Jaehwan smiles back. He resists the urge to take Sanghyuk’s hand, screw everyone around them, so he opts for a gentle and playful headlock, steering Sanghyuk towards the exit as the boy squirms away with a laugh.

Jaehwan makes up for it in the car, darkened windows swallowing the sight of their long kiss.

"I'll walk you in the park tonight," he grins into Sanghyuk's mouth. "I even bought you a cute leash."

Sanghyuk replies by biting down on Jaehwan's lower lip.

**Author's Note:**

> i rushed the end but idc. 
> 
> also a million thanks to jeodoboleo for listening me complain about this and keeping my spirits up, i hope you won't be too disappointed in the fic.


End file.
